


Interlude - Blindfolded

by IrenkaFeralKitty



Series: All Hands On [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blindfolds, Double Vaginal Penetration, Minor Lusankya feels, Multi, My take on omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Porn with Feelings, Sensory Deprivation, Threesome - M/M/M, Undressing, Vaginal Sex, omegas with vaginas, omegaverse delta, omegaverse gamma, sensory play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 04:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18328208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrenkaFeralKitty/pseuds/IrenkaFeralKitty
Summary: Sexy interludes in the "All Hands On" series - Tycho wears a blindfold.





	Interlude - Blindfolded

As soft sinfonia music played in the background, Tycho pressed his hands against his bare thighs, trying to still their faint tremble. A heady mix of nerves, tension, and arousal had his heart pounding and adrenaline surging through him. He’d never been this on edge before starting this, but then, this was the first time they’d done this particular sort of scene since Tycho had been captured.

He knew he probably looked a bit ridiculous with the remains of a New Republic orange flightsuit bound around his eyes, but needs must and all that. None of them had considered indulging in sensory play while assigned to the _Mon Remonda_. The lack of a proper blindfold was something Tycho had already made note of to correct. At least the fabric of the flightsuit was heavy enough to completely block out the light. Tycho was completely blind.

This was all a bit haphazard, really. But the special scene they’d gotten to have with Hobbie on Boleias had gotten Tycho thinking and when Wedge and Wes finally _, finally_ , arrived on the _Mon Remonda_ with Wraith Squadron he hadn’t been able to put those thoughts on hold until a more appropriate time. Such as when when they went on leave. Or when they were finally stationed on a planet for long enough to find a rental housing unit with walls thicker than a military ship’s bulkheads.

His thoughts were wandering. He needed to focus. Tycho inhaled slowly, held his breath for a moment, then slowly released it, trying to let out some of the excess energy running through him. Instead, he tried to focus on his surroundings.

The carpet was rough under his legs and knees, the industrial weave intended more to be easily cleaned than comfortable. There was a faint chill in the air, as even Wedge didn’t rate quarters with their own environmental controls. Part of Tycho wanted to go find a blanket to cover his naked skin while another was eagerly anticipating just how hot and sweaty he soon would be.

He was alone for the moment. Wedge had stripped his clothes off him, ordered him to kneel, and tied the cloth around his eyes. He then promised to return shortly and disappeared from Tycho’s senses once the music started playing. He didn’t know if Wedge was lurking in a corner, watching his cock grow hard with anticipation, or hiding in the refresher attached to his quarters. And he hadn’t seen Wes or Hobbie since dinner, so their whereabouts where a complete mystery.

As the near silence stretched on, Tycho felt his skin start to prickle. The adrenalin and cold fueled tremors in his hands began to spread up his arms and through the rest of him. His breath hitched-

The refresher door snapped open with a mechanical hiss, then soft footsteps began to approach him, the dull thud of boots roaring loudly in his ears. The unknown person stopped in front of him.

“Tycho, are you ready?”

Wedge’s voice, right in front of him. Some of the tension in Tycho’s chest loosened once he knew who had approached him.

“Yes,” he said, pleased with how steady his voice was.

“I could have told you that.”

That was Wes, off to his left and high up? They’d moved a chair, Tycho suddenly remembered. Moved from the center of the living space portion of Wedge’s quarters over to a wall so they’d have more room.

“His cock’s already starting to leak.”

And there was Hobbie, off to his right. Tycho’s pack were all there and the flicker of concern that had been living in the back of his head went away, leaving behind eager anticipation. His pulse throbbed, energy knotting in his limbs as he fought to the urge to move. He was waiting, waiting for Wedge to tell him to do something or for someone to touch him. Something. _Anything_.

Fabric rustled and the air moved slightly. Then fingers touched his mouth, just the tips. They traced around his lips before sliding down his chin and throat. Tycho bit back a groan at the sudden light touch-

The fingers vanished.

“Don’t hold those sounds back,” Wes purred from his chair. “We want to hear you.”

“The- the walls,” Tycho said. Words had gotten hard all of the sudden.

“We’re fine with the neighbors hearing you,” Hobbie added. His voice was closer, moving around the room. Tycho swung his head, trying to track him.

“We want to hear exactly how good we’re making you feel,” Wedge said in front of him. His voice was already smug.

Tycho wanted to sink into that voice and stroke himself until he came. But he couldn’t, not yet.

“Undress me, Tycho,” Wedge ordered. “Everything. Start with my belt.”

The chill seemed to bite even deeper as Tycho’s heart rate fluttered. Carefully, he rose out of his kneeling position fully onto his knees and reached out. His hands found Wedge moments later. He caressed the other man for a moment, working out exactly where he was touching him. The materials under his fingers was too thin and too smooth to be trousers, which meant he was too high up.

Trailing his hands down, Tycho suddenly hit the waistband of Wedge’s trousers, then the stiff leather of his belt. As he groped for the buckle, Tycho purposely missed and gave Wedge’s hardening cock a squeeze, delighted with how Wedge gasped. Then, with fumbling hands, he found his target.

The buckle felt icy cold, prompting a startled cry to leave his lips. It bit into his fingers, sending a shiver through him, before slowly starting to warm at his touch. His hands started to shake again as he pushed the end tip through the loop and then pulled it up so that the prong fell free. There was a soft sound as it hit the frame of the buckle, a soft metal clink that sounded so very loud to Tycho’s ears.

This was all so much. Pausing, Tycho tried to slow his rapid breathing, his senses already beginning to feel overwhelmed.

A hand touched his hair. “Are you alright?” Wedge asked.

“Yeah, just… just need a moment,” Tycho panted. He’d never gotten this worked up this fast before. But it had been a while since he’d been the focus of any kind of scene, hadn’t it? Not since before _Lusankya_ , damn it.

“Take all the time you need.” Wedge kept his hand in Tycho’s hair, giving him a solid, anchoring presence.

Tycho turned his head, resting his head against Wedge’s hand as he took a series of deep breaths, holding them, then releasing them in a precise, practiced rhythm.

“Okay,” he finally said, straightening back up.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He could almost hear Wedge’s smile in his next words. “Good. Then finish taking off my belt and start on my boots.”

Tycho eagerly reached out again and found Wedge’s trim waist. It didn’t take much effort to draw the belt out of the loops of his trousers. When it was free, he hesitated, uncertain what to do with it.

“Give it here.” Hobbie’s voice was accompanied by the belt growing lighter in his hand as the other man took hold of it then removed it entirely from his hand. He could hear the ring of the prong hitting the buckle and the hiss of leather sliding across leather. Then a drawer opened behind him and Tycho groaned as he realized Hobbie was putting the belt away, and likely would everything else Tycho removed from Wedge.

That shouldn’t have been hot. But it was.

Tearing his focus away from Hobbie, Tycho returned his attention to Wedge. He ran his hand down his trousers, deliberately taking time to caress what was now a fully erect cock through the stiff fabric of Wedge’s trousers before he ran down his legs and found the tops of his boots.

Unlike Wes, whose muscled calves required he wear latched boots, Wedge’s needed only a few small bits of elastic to properly fit. Tycho bit his lower lip for a moment as he thought, then moved his hands to Wedge’s right leg. He ran his fingers over the rim of the boot tops until the smooth leather surface gave way to stitched in rough elastic. He slid his fingers beneath the elastic, reveling in the heat radiating off Wedge.

He first pushed the elastic back then exerted downward pressure on the boot itself. Wedge shifted his weight and lifted his leg, the top of the boot releasing its hold. Tycho passed his hands down the surface of Wedge’s boots and grasped the foot, tugging it off, then froze as Wedge reached out and used the top of his head for balance as he wiggled his foot free.

“Now the other,” Wedge ordered once he was standing flat on the ground again.

Passing the boot off the Hobbie, Tycho repeated the process with Wedge’s other boot, holding perfectly still as Wedge again used him to keep his balance. That boot was also whisked away.

“Should we have him polish them?” Wes asked. He didn’t sound like he’d moved at all.

Wedge chuckled. “Not this time. Socks, Tycho, then my trousers and undergarments.”

As Tycho pulled Wedge’s socks off, he suddenly realized he wasn’t cold anymore. Instead, something more like a fever was sweeping through him. His cock was hard as it stood erect in front of him, the feeling of cool air at the tip a sign that he was leaking precome.

He hadn’t realized undressing someone while blindfolded could be so erotic.

“Your cock is leaking so much the carpet has a wet spot,” Wes noted with amusement. “How do you feel?”

“Hot,” Tycho answered. He suddenly pictured his packmates watching him with hungry eyes. Wedge staring down at him from his lordly position above him, Hobbie circling around him and coming in close enough to smell his arousal, and Wes lounging on the chair, legs spread and stroking his shaft with an idle hand. Tycho was completely exposed to them, every twitch of his cock and flush of his body, each tremble and bitten lip. “You’re all watching me,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop.

“Yes, we are. You look good like this,” Hobbie said from behind him.

Tycho jumped slightly. When had he moved?

“Hobbie keeps staring at your cock,” Wes reported. There was a sudden squelching sound and a groan tore its way out of Tycho’s throat as he realized Wes was fingering himself.

“You can have a taste, Hobbie,” Wedge said. “Just one, though.”

Air suddenly moved on Tycho’s right side and a warm body suddenly leaned in close. There was a soft thud and the shuffle of skin on the carpet.

A wet, warm mouth closed over his cock and Tycho yelped, then moaned. Hobbie sank down on Tycho’s cock, taking it all the way to the root before drawing back, his tongue dragging along the underside. As Hobbie pulled off, he swept his tongue over the tip, licking it clean of precome.

The room air made the spit left on his cock feel almost freezing cold and sparked a new wave of pleasure that ran from Tycho’s crotch all the way to his head.

“You should have some,” Hobbie mumbled from nearby, and then he was kissing Tycho, open mouthed as he shared some of the salty fluid with him. Moaning again, Tycho accepted Hobbie’s invading tongue, his hand instinctively moving towards his cock as he sucked the precome out of Hobbie’s mouth.

A hand grabbed his.

“That’s enough.”

Sighing, Hobbie pulled back. Tycho whined at the lost sensation, swaying forwards to try and find Hobbie again.

“I said, enough.” Wedge’s voice was firmer this time, his hand squeezing Tycho’s slightly in warning. “Swallow that, then get back to work.”

It took several moments for Tycho to comply. He swallowed his come and sank back down into a sitting position for a moment, needing to squeeze his legs together. His cock wasn’t the only thing wet now.

Wes suddenly spoke, drawing closer. “Looks like he’s starting to feel empty. I know I am.”

Wedge chuckled. “I think the spot on the carpet under his cock isn’t the only wet one. Grab a toy and go back to masturbating. Tycho won’t be ready for you until he’s finished undressing me.”

Tycho rocketed back onto his knees in an instant. He desperately wanted something thick and vibrating between his legs, but he also wanted to know what dildo Wes had chosen, to watch him as he plunged it in and out of his core. He loved watching Wes play with himself, the way he pinched his nipples and sucked on the dildo before sliding it into himself. There were few sights better than watching Wes’s passage stretch around a brightly colored toy while he panted and moaned.

He wasn’t going to get to see, though, was he? All he could do was listen and hope someone described it to him.

Wes let out a muffled moan as he retreated. Tycho heard the chair sigh as the other man sat back down, then Wes cried out along with a sudden wet sound.

“Mm, he shoved it straight in,” Wedge said. His fingers stroked Tycho’s lips, one dipping inside when Tycho opened his mouth. Listening furiously, Tycho sucked on the slender digit. “He has the shorter purple dildo and he’s so wet, he barely needed to suck on it to get it to go inside.”

“He’s going slow, though,” Hobbie added behind him, arousal thick in his voice. “He’s pulling it out so the tip is just inside… And now it’s going back in. He’s, ahh, taken it all the way to the suction cup base.”

Wes moaned along with Hobbie’s narration and Tycho couldn’t help but whimper. That particular toy was just slightly smaller than his own cock and Wes only tended to go for it when he was planning on riding him hard and fast.

Still squeezing his legs together in vain hope of relieving the growing ache at his core, Tycho reached for Wedge again. He needed to hurry if he wanted more. He found the tunic then the trousers they were tucked into. Pulling the top free, he slid his hands under the loose fabric to search for the trouser fasteners.

The pants came undone easily enough, consisting of a simple button and zipper, then he began to tug them down Wedge’s narrow hips and legs. Once he reached the floor, Wedge stepped out of the garment and Tycho tossed them to one side. He ran his hands back up Wedge’s legs, feeling the scratch of hair over lean muscles. Wedge’s undergarments appeared under his fingers next, a pair of semi-fitted shorts that Tycho easily slid off him, making sure to drag the waistband across Wedge before they too were discarded.

Wedge groaned as the sensation of fabric enclosed elastic slid down his sensitive shaft. His hand returned to Tycho’s hair, holding him in place.

“Just the tip,” Wedge panted, and suddenly a cock was bumping his lips. Opening his mouth, Tycho accepted the organ.

As promised, he only got the tip. Wedge kept his thrusts shallow, the swollen tip sliding back and forth through the tight ring of Tycho’s lips. He’d barely gotten a taste of Wedge’s come when the cock was pulled out.

“Stand up,” Wedge ordered. “Take my tunic off.”

Letting out a frustrated sound, Tycho fumbled his way to his feet. Wedge caught his arm was he wobbled, his feet feeling wrong and his legs weak. Once he was steady, Wedge guided his hands to his chest, then released him and waited.

Tycho ran his hands over Wedge’s chest, trying to figure out which tunic Wedge was wearing while also trying to ignore the continued sounds of Wes moaning as he fucked himself. Wedge had no vest and no rank insignia, so he wasn’t in his day uniform, He couldn’t feel many seams nor overlapping fabric, which ruled out formal wear. Wedge had likely donned a simple cloth sleeping shirt or a plain undershirt. Either way, he only needed to find the hem of the tunic and pull it upwards for it to come off.

As the tunic came free and Tycho lowered his arms, the garment was whisked out of his hand. Tycho stood still for a moment, listening intently.

The loudest sound in the room was the wet sound of Wes driving the dildo into himself. The omega was panting slightly in time with the thrusts and if he strained, Tycho could make out the slick glide of Wes’s hand on his shaft.

Behind him, fabric rustled as Hobbie folded the tunic Tycho had removed from Wedge, diligently ensuring the beta pilot’s belonging were neatly in order.

And before him was Wedge, standing still and quiet while the sinfonia music continued to play in the background.

He wanted to see Wedge so much. He knew how hard he was and how wet his dick was. Tycho wanted to suck that cock into his mouth and feel it slide down his throat. He wanted to bend over and have it fuck his cunt as slick rolled down his thighs. Or perhaps Wedge could drive into his ass, forcing him open with just lube and the thrust of his cock while a toy split his cunt wide open.

Just as Tycho was starting to get lost in his fantasies, Wedge spoke. “Wes, move the chair over here.” Hands suddenly took his, tugging him to the side.

A groan came from nearby, but Wes obediently stopped playing with himself. The chair creaked as the omega climbed out of it and then came the sound of the heavy seat being pushed along the carpet. The chair drew closer and closer, and Wes could be heard grunting as it moved. Finally, the sound stopped and Wes let out a sound of satisfaction.

Still holding his hands, Wedge tugged him back towards their previous position and towards the chair.

“Reach out with a hand,” he ordered, releasing one of Tycho’s hands. “Once you find the chair, climb onto it so you’re kneeling facing the back. Lean over the back cushion and spread your legs as far as you can.”

Wedge somehow had gotten an armchair in his small quarters as well as a private refresher. Once Tycho found the soft cushioned surface, he clambered onto it, Wedge keeping a steadying hand on his back. As he swung his remaining leg up, he overbalanced and was caught by Wes, who helped him remain upright.

The chair had arms, thankfully, which Tycho used to maintain his balance as he spread his legs so that they pressed against the sides of the chair. As he leaned forward, he suddenly realized just how exposed his was. The chair was, he knew, a dull gray color with a single wide stripe of dark blue going down the center, a shade Tycho knew he looked good against. The chair back was low, meaning the angle of his back as he rested his chest and arms on the cushioned back and the spread of his legs parted his buttcheeks some, exposing his puckered rear entrance. His ballsack also hung in view and wobbled as he rutted against the back cushion.

There were a wide range of options available to his pack with this position. Tycho couldn’t wait to find out what they would do next.

“You’re pretty like this, too,” Wes said admiringly as he moved behind him. A large calloused hand squeezed one of Tycho’s buttcheeks, the pulled it to the side, better exposing his asshole. “I can’t decide which position I like more.”

“Tycho’s always pretty,” Hobbie said. The gamma pilot was close and on the other side of the chair from Wes. He was surrounded and that thought made Tycho’s blood race.

He also couldn’t help but preen at Hobbie’s words. He worked hard to maintain a pleasing appearance. There had been days that had been all he had. He liked knowing his packmates appreciated it.

“He definitely is.” One of Wedge’s hands passed down his spine as he spoke, lightly tracing around each vertebrae.

Wes’s other hand seized his other buttcheek and together his hands manipulated the round globes. He squeezed them, then parted them, fingers flexing as they applied pressure.

Then a hand snapped back and swatted his ass.

Tycho choked at the sudden sting. It wasn’t a hard blow, more surprising than anything else. A feather light touched strokes his ass again, then a matching strike hit the other cheek.

Before, he’d enjoyed such blows. Often harder ones that left bruises on his skin for him to enjoy looking at later on. This time, though, anxiety spiked through him.

“Yellow,” he stuttered and the hands touching him immediately vanished.

“No slaps?” Wedge asked, moving more to his side.

“Yes. I mean no.”  Tycho groaned, dropping his head with a whimper. “No strikes.”

“Okay.” A kiss was pressed against his temple. “No more of that. We weren’t sure and now we know. Do you want to stop or keep going?”

Tycho took a moment to think. The slaps had made his cock twitch. It was his stupid anxiety getting in the way. But he was still aroused, still wanted to see what the others had planned.

“Let’s keep going,” Tycho finally said.

“Okay.” Air shifted around him as the others moved. Lips pressed against his, then fingers ran across the edges of the blindfold.

“You look so good like this,” Wes crooned behind him. “We can see just how hard your cock is-“ A hand squeezed his shaft, “and your cunt is so wet.” A large finger ran across his opening, rotating to catch as much of the slick as it could. “You want a cock in your cunt so bad, don’t you?”

Tycho shuddered at the crude words. He loved the word cunt, loved how filthy it sounded coming from his packmates’ lips.

Wes leaned forward, brushing his shoulder against Tycho’s back as he slid his wet finger into Tycho’s mouth.

Sucking in the digit, Tycho revealed in the taste of himself on his packmate’s skin.

“Too bad for you we’re not there yet.”  As Wedge spoke, Wes pulled his hand free and pulled away.

They moved again, the air current getting disrupted once more as they circled him.

Ice touched his mouth, the cold, wet block shocking his overheating body. The corner of the cube traced his lips before it was pushed into his mouth. A heated kiss followed, a hot mouth devouring his cold one. He moaned against the lips and around the ice cube melting in his mouth.

More drops of ice water hit him, running down his back in a cold stream. Hands flowed the water’s path, rubbing warm oil into his skin. The dual sensations were incredibly pleasurable.

Them hands began to touch him all over. They never lingered long to enough for Tycho to identify their owners. They tickled and pinched, stroked and scratched, feather light touches and deep caresses. It wasn’t long before Tycho was moaning helplessly, lost in the feeling of six hands touching him all over.

One hand pinched his armpit while another ran fingernails over his sensitive inner thighs. Two hands massaged his lower back, the pressure so different with each hand it had to be two people while a finger flicked his nipples.

The only areas not being stimulated were his cock, cunt, and asshole. The lack of attention soon had him whimpered as he clenched down on nothing and rutted his cock against the smooth fake leather accent stripe.

Then the hands stopped entirely.

“No, no, please, I want more,” Tycho sobbed. Pleasure kept building in him and he wanted, no, needed more to finally reach his peak.

They could make him come just like this, he realized. Touching him while he rutted against a chair, driving him out of his mind until he came and stained the synthetic material.

“We’re going to move,” Wedge said. “Just relax and let us do the work.”

Hands seized his shoulders, pulling him backwards. More hands supported his back as he laid flat in the air then moved to his hips and thighs. Holding him on his back, legs spread, they lifted him into the air.

He almost felt like he was floating, anchored only by the hands holding onto him. A shudder ran through him as he was carried away from the chair. The air conditioning unit was blowing now, sending cool air flowing through the room and over his body. His packmates’ hands were hot on his skin, taunting him with a promise of warmth that the room temperature was denying him.

Tycho arched his back when he was deposited on the bed,rubbing his overly sensitive skin on the worn fabric. Hands took hold of his ankles, spreading his legs even further apart so someone could climb between them.

A helpless moan floated out of him as metal prongs ran down his upper arms and into his elbows. Some rubbery and vibrating touched his inner thigh and Tycho yelped, nearly coming right then and there. And hand quickly seized his cock, squeezing at the base to help him stave off orgasm.

His packmates continued to torture him with these new toys, gliding them all over. They alternated teasing his vulnerable spots, then chased each other around, the scrape of the metal prongs being followed by the dull vibrating tow and vice versa.

And then Wes began to talk, telling him how hot he looked, describing the scratches appearing on his skin and the flush on his face and chest. He told him how hungry Wedge looked as he watched him and how Hobbie was practically drooling because of how much he wanted to suck his cock. He went into great detail about his own desire to ride Tycho’s cock, taunting him with how wet and empty his own cunt was.

Everything beyond the way his body was being pleasures went away. Wes’s voice became a dull roar as he fixed a mental picture of his packmates around him. The toys being used on him  were little more than points of light in his mind, surrounding and caressing him with helpless abandon.

The meta pricks vanished and the vibrating rubber suddenly slid between his legs, parting the lips of his cunt with what must have been a long dildo was laid longways against him.

It was too much.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please, fuck me,” Tycho sobbed. He needed to come. Needed to be full and to fill someone, anyone. His body was buzzing and out of control with pleasure. He couldn’t think, only feel, only know that he needed to be fucked and used, to have his cunt soaked with semen.

The dildo disappeared immediately and his legs hauled into the air as the presence below him moved closer. A cock teased his entrance, the large blunt tip resting just beyond where he could take it into himself. His legs were held firm, preventing him from rocking down onto the offered cock.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then hips slammed into his and he was filled to the root with a big alpha style cock, an uninflated knot teasing his opening as Hobbie fully entered him. Tycho howled, feeling like the top of his head had been blown off. His legs were released and he wrapped himself around his packmate, hips rocking wildly as he sought orgasm.

Hobbie leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Tycho’s shoulders, then, with a flex of his abdominals, they tumbled onto their sides. It took a little more wriggling, plus some help from Wes, but soon Tycho was sinking even further down Hobbie’s cock as he rode him. Now settled, Wes leaned in, using his hand to hold back Tycho’s orgasm with a firm grip on the base of cock as he kissed him.

“Lean forward, love,” Wes said softly a few moments after pulling back. Hobbie’s hands drifted up from his hips to his upper back, tugging him downwards.

For a moment, the movement didn’t make sense. Then Wedge appeared behind him, hands brushing his hips, and that confusion vanished.

“Brace yourself on the bed,” Wedge ordered, “and relax. We want you to really enjoy this.”

Wes kissed him again as Tycho placed his hands on the bed on either side of Hobbie’s head. Wedge’s cock brushed against his backside, then slid down to where Hobbie was buried inside him. Then, with what felt like a bit of extra lube, Wedge began to push inside.

Hobbie’s back arched slightly as he felt Wedge’s cock sliding into Tycho’s cunt alongside his own shaft. Tycho let out a helpless wail as the sheer pressure from the second penetration. By the time Wedge was as deep inside as he could go, Tycho had gone limp on Hobbie’s chest, moaning and drooling in pleasure.

“We’re going to soak your cunt with our seed,” Wedge purred.”You’re going to be feeling this for days. Everytime you move, you’ll remember us fucking you together, our cocks demanding you completely give yourself to us.”

Wedge stopped talking then and it was good he did so, because even Wes’s hand couldn’t have stopped Tycho from coming.

The rhythm of his packmates inside him was off at first, but soon Wedge and Hobbie were moving together. Wedge drove into him with long, hard thrusts while Hobbie’s cock moved slower, but lingered deeper inside him.

None of them lasted long. They were all too worked up from the prolonged play. After just a few thrusts, Tycho wailed again, clenching down hard as he was driven over the edge. He went limp a few moments later, his hips still rocking helplessly as he gasped and trembled. Wedge, meanwhile, moaned and thrust hard into Tycho, his hips stuttering against Tycho’s backside as he emptied himself inside.

“Fuck, your come, I can feel it,” Hobbie whimpered. “I can feel you coming, your come surrounding my cock-” With one final shudder, he also came, spilling deep into Tycho.

For a moment, they all lay together, limbs entwined. At first, Tycho couldn’t tell where his own body ended that the others began. They breathed together, one complete organism.

“Wedge,” Wes murmured nearby. He moved, the bedsheets rustling as he shifted his weight.

With a groan, Wedge reluctantly pushed himself up and slowly pulled out, causing both Tycho and Hobbie to gasp.

As Wedge stumbled off the bed, Wes helped ease Tycho off Hobbie’s cock and onto the bed. He was shaking, trembling helplessly. Leaving Wedge to help Hobbie, Wes retrieved some cleaning cloths and mopped up the worst of the mess on and leaking out of Tycho. He reached down, grabbing the sheets bunched up at the bottom of the bed and pulled the top sheet and blanket over Tycho. Only then, when he was clean and warm, did Wes untie the blindfold.

The lights were on a low setting but still seemed overly bright to Tycho’s eyes. He blinked, brain needing time to remember how to process visual stimuli. Wes lay next to him, speaking soft words of comfort as Tycho started to come back to himself.

When Tycho could finally shape words again, he found he was still trembling. Wes had a laid hand on his chest, a solid, comforting presence felt through the bed linens.

Wedge and Hobbie appeared soon, clean and functional once more.

“How are you?” Wedge asked as he climbed up next to Tycho, pausing to give him a kiss.

“Good. I’m… Yup. Warm. Um. Yes.”

A smug look crossed Wedge’s face at Tycho incoherence. It took a lot to get Tycho into this state. It was usually him being annoyingly put together after any kind of sex, kinky or otherwise.

“So the Kitchen puts out the leftover sweets from the day right after most of Second Shift finished dinner,” Wes said. “Wanna go hunt that down in a few hours? We can just relax and rest until then.”

“They usually have some sticky pudding,” Hobbie added, sitting crosslegged at the bottom of the bed.

“I’m not sure I should condone this,” Wedge said, frowning.

“It’s not stealing, they’re up for grabs to whoever knows about them,” Wes responded.

Wedge considered it with pursed lips. “Tycho?” he asked.

Sweets sounded like an _excellent_ idea. “Absolutely. Tasty sounds good.” He grinned, pulling the sheets closer to his chin as he settled deeper in the bed. He had words and with some time resting, he’d be able to stop trembling.

Letting out a pleased sound, Wedge settled down next to Tycho. “We need to treat any aches or scratches we gave you before you sleep,” he reminded him.

“Meh.” Tycho rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He heard the others chuckle, then Hobbie murmured something and climbed off the bed.

“We’ll just wake you up if you’re asleep when Hobbie gets back with the medkit,” Wes said teasingly. After a moment’s concentration, Tycho managed to extract an arm and gave him a rude gesture. There was more soft laughter. “Okay, then,” Wes said with amusement.

Wedge leaned closer so he could murmur in Tycho’s ear. “We’ll talk through how that went tomorrow, alright?”

“Hm. ‘Kay.”

“You’re fun like this,” Wes said with a laugh. “And here’s Hobbie. I need the linens, Tycho. This won’t take long.”

Sighing, Tycho reluctantly let himself be stripped of the warm blankets. He did have some scrapes and some possible bruising. And it wouldn’t hurt to apply some bacta gel downstairs just in case.

As his pack descended on him again, this time with the tools and intentions of healing rather than exciting, Tycho relaxed. _Lusankya_ would always be with him. But with his pack around him, he knew he’d always be safe.


End file.
